


If Tomorrow Never Comes

by Kalkasar (Mordhena)



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Episode: s01e16 Shuttlepod One, First Kiss, First Time Blow Jobs, M/M, Malcolm Reed Angst, What-If, never put off till tomorrow, speak up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:41:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27174673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordhena/pseuds/Kalkasar
Summary: After Shuttle pod One: Malcolm realizes that there are some things that must be said. Lest tomorrow never comes.
Relationships: Jonathan Archer/Malcolm Reed
Kudos: 15





	If Tomorrow Never Comes

  
  
**I**  
  
The dream was back. He was warm, and the insistent, steady beeping of a  
heart monitor roused him from sleep.  
  
"We're back!" He struggled to sit up, but gentle hands on his chest pushed  
him down.  
  
"Easy, Malcolm." It was Jon's voice.  
  
Malcolm's heart constricted at the sound of it, and he looked into the  
captain's eyes, blinking in disbelief.  
  
"You fellas had a nice little bout with hypothermia."  
  
Malcolm gasped as memory returned. "The commander?"  
  
"He's going to be fine," Jon said.  
  
"It took nearly three hours to get your body temperatures back to normal,"  
Phlox added.  
  
"You must have seen the explosion." Malcolm let his head fall back against  
the pillow, closing his eyes as relief washed over him.  
  
"Hard to miss." Jon nodded. "You know, you guys only had about two or three  
hours of air left."  
  
"You don't say." Malcolm's eyes sought Jon's face again. "We saw debris from  
Enterprise on one of the asteroids." He looked into Jon's eyes. "We  
assumed." remembered pain welled up, and Malcolm paused. "We thought you  
were all." He pressed his lips together, fighting against the tears that  
threatened. The memory was sharp; like something viewed through a crystal  
cut lens. Every detail clearly defined.  
  


**~~Flash Back~~**  
  
  
The grief tore at him, demanding that he feel it; acknowledge it, live it -  
but he couldn't. It was too raw, and too fresh, an open wound that  
he dare not examine too closely for fear that it would plummet him into an  
abyss from which he could not escape.  
  
He wouldn't think about it now. Not now. Not with Tucker here to watch, and  
see how - oh how he had loved him.  
  
He did anything he could to keep his mind off it. He wrote letters, words of  
farewell to everyone but the one he most needed to say goodbye to. He couldn 't  
do that. Wouldn't do that. Writing that letter would make it real. No. He  
wouldn't do that.  
  
So he wrote letters to others. People he hadn't even thought of in  
years. Pseudo farewells to loved ones that helped him to verbalize some of  
the deeper feeling behind his sentiments.  
  
_"What's your problem with having a little hope?"_ Trip asked.  
  
He didn't have hope. Jon was dead, and there would never be a chance to  
tell him how he felt.  
  
He denied wanting to die when Trip confronted him. But he did. He wanted to  
cease to exist, to fade away and forget the aching, the hopeless grief that  
made every breath agony, every thought a living nightmare.  
  
_I lost nearly everyone I cared about - on that ship. Those girls I talked  
about, Rochelle, Deborah, Caitlin - none of them worked out because I could  
never get close to them. Never got very close to my family either for that  
matter - Not that it's any business of yours. _

_But with the crew of the Enterprise it was different. I was really starting to feel  
comfortable with them - and now the only one that's left thinks I'm the bloody angel of  
death!_  
  
He hadn't meant to cry - not in front of Tucker, but the tears came  
unbidden though he fought to contain them. Jon... _Jonathan_ was gone. Lost to him  
forever. For a moment the black despair loomed larger and more enticing, but  
he managed to push it down again.  
  
  
**~~Now~~**  
  
  
"I'll tell you all about it in the morning," Jon said. He patted Malcolm on  
the shoulder and turned to walk out of the sickbay, leaving Malcolm behind.  
  
_Stop! Wait!_ Malcolm's mind cried out. _Don't leave me here alone! I_ _have to  
tell you._  
  
If this was a dream then even this, it seemed, would rob him of the chance  
to tell Jonathan all that was in his heart. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't lose  
Jon again, why couldn't he just die and be released from the suffering?  
  
  
**~~Flash Back~~**  
  
  
He remembered the message from _Enterprise_. The brief elation all too short-lived  
when they realized they didn't have enough air to stay alive until the  
ship arrived.  
  
Ironic really. He lost the man he loved, only to find out he was alive - to  
subsequently realize that he would die before they ever saw one another  
again.  
  
_That's the galaxy - laughin' at us._ Trip put it so aptly.  
  
The galaxy laughing at _him_ , at Malcolm Reed who was foolish enough to think  
he would ever find lasting happiness. It was just another tomorrow that  
would never come for him.  
  
  
**~~Now~~**  
  
  
There was a way he could be sure if this was all a dream. "Sub Commander."  
  
T'Pol turned to look at him. "Yes."  
  
"Isn't there something you're supposed to say to me?" She had talked to him  
in the dream last time, told him she admired his courage; kissed him.  
Malcolm still puzzled over that. Jon was the one he wanted. He didn't crave  
the kisses of a woman – any woman.  
  
"About what?" T'Pol maintained her usual dispassionate countenance.  
  
"Heroics," he whispered. "Something about heroics." He studied her face,  
watching for the slightest flicker of change but the Vulcan merely raised an  
eyebrow at him.  
  
"Goodnight, Lieutenant."  
  
As she left, Malcolm smiled.  
  
He closed his eyes. Some part of his mind still caught in the immediate  
past. Reliving those despairing hours as they waited for death to claim them.  
Gradually losing hope that _Enterprise_ would reach them in time.  
  
  
**~~Flash Back~~**  
  
  
He fought Tucker when the commander decided to climb into the airlock and  
seal himself in. Even in the face of that hopelessness, he refused wait for  
the return of _Enterprise_ with a dead man in the airlock. No matter how much  
he longed to see Jonathan again, he couldn't allow Tucker to kill himself so that  
he could live.  
  
_I've invested far too much time trying to figure you out, Mister Tucker. I'm  
not about to accept that it was all for nothing!_  
  
Cold... so cold. He couldn't remember a time, even in the depths of an English  
winter that he had felt that cold.  
  
Trip succumbed first. He drifted into unconsciousness despite Malcolm's best efforts to keep him alert.  
  
Give up, Malcolm... they're not gonna get to us in time. It's too late.  
  
You're the one who was telling me to have hope, Commander...y-y-you going to  
give up on m-me now? After all this?  
  
No use...Malcolm...I'm tired...lemme sleep.  
  
Malcolm wrapped them both in the blankets. Held Trip as close to him as he  
could and fought to stay awake, but it was a hopeless battle. The cold  
seeped inside his bones. He trembled so violently he could barely  
breathe. The last sound he remembered hearing was the helpless chattering of  
his own teeth, and in the end it was easier just to let go, to drift, to  
forget.  
  
  
**~~Now~~**  
  
  
Malcolm sighed as T'Pol stepped through to doors of sickbay and Phlox dimmed  
the lights. He was home, tomorrow _had_ come, and he would have a chance to  
tell Jonathan of his feelings.  
  
  
**II**  
  
  
Jon sighed as he walked along the hallway towards his cabin. He had admired  
Malcolm for some time. Since the beginning of their mission, but had never  
found the courage to speak of his feelings. It was just not done. Senior  
officers could not fraternize with subordinates. regulations were firm on  
that.  
  
When _Enterprise_ finally reached the shuttle pod, the situation was grim. Trip  
and Malcolm had not responded to hails and if it had not been for the  
explosion they wouldn't have reached the stricken craft in time at all.  
  
Jon walked into his cabin and sat down at his desk, taking Porthos into his  
lap as the beagle came to greet him. He sighed remembering the sight that  
met their eyes once the pod was brought aboard and opened.  
  
Malcolm and Trip huddled together, wrapped in two thin blankets. Both  
were unconscious, their skin deathly pale with frost settled all over them.  
For a moment Jon feared the worst, but Phlox reported they were alive.  
  
Removing them from the shuttle pod was a delicate operation. Phlox warned  
that any jolting could be fatal as it may send their hearts into dangerous  
arrhythmias. They were carried out on stretchers one at a time by medical  
teams, careful not to jostle them in any way.  
  
Jon had followed to the sickbay, hovering and  
plaguing the doctor with questions until Phlox politely asked him to leave.  
  
Faced with no choice but to heed the doctor's orders, the captain had  
returned to the bridge where he brooded until Phlox contacted him with the  
news that Malcolm was coming around.  
  
Captain Jonathan Archer needed all the iron resolve at his command to  
restrain himself from snatching Malcolm Reed into his arms and kissing him  
when the younger man almost broke down as he told them of how he and Trip  
had assumed that the crew of _Enterprise_ were dead.  
  
He saw the soft, gray eyes fill with tears watched the struggle as the  
lieutenant fought to contain the emotion. It caused a twist of pain in his  
own heart when Malcolm's voice hitched on the words "We thought you were  
all."  
  
He wished that depth feeling had been for him alone. That it was the thought  
of _his_ death that could cause Malcolm such grief. Jonathan would have to  
content himself with the thought that Malcolm had been grieved at all.  
It was just too much to expect that he had meant  
Jon's loss would pain him that way.  
  
Porthos whined and licked Jon's face and the captain smiled, looking  
into the warm brown eyes of his beloved companion. "It's all right, fella,"  
he murmured. "Everything's going to be all right."  
  
  
**III**  
  
  
  
Malcolm woke early the following morning. He was reassured  
to find himself still in the sickbay, the steady beep of the heart monitor  
telling him that he really was back aboard _Enterprise._ He sighed looking to  
the side to find that Trip was awake as well. He smiled. "Good morning," he  
said softly.  
  
"We made it." Trip turned to look at Malcolm in silence for several moments. "Thanks."  
  
Malcolm shook his head. "No need to thank me," he replied, "We just got  
lucky."  
  
"Why'd you stop me?" There was no need for Trip to explain what he meant.  
The question hung in the air between them for several seconds.  
  
_Because you're his best friend, and I didn't want to watch him lose you_.  
Malcolm thought. He shrugged after a moment. "I told you, I didn't want my  
efforts in figuring you out to be wasted," he said, and then he smiled  
slightly, looking at Trip. "Besides, I didn't fancy sitting there for God  
knows how many hours with a corpse in the airlock over my head."  
  
Trip nodded and looked away. "I'm glad you did."  
  
"So am I."  
  
The two men fell silent, and a few minutes later, Jonathan Archer walked  
into the sickbay. "Well, hello you two!" he said cheerfully.  
  
"Cap'n!" Trip struggled to sit up. "Can't ya talk to Phlox? He won't let me  
outta here, and you know I can't stand sickbay!"  
  
Reed smiled, noting the light of relief that gleamed in Archer's eyes as the  
captain watched Trip trying to get up.  
  
"I'm sure the doctor won't keep you here a minute longer than necessary,  
Trip." Jon turned to Malcolm as he spoke. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Much better, sir." Malcolm smiled slightly. "It's very good to be warm  
again."  
  
"I'm sure it is."  
  
"Sir," Malcolm met the captain's eyes. "What happened? The debris..."  
  
Jonathan smiled and pulled a chair forward, setting it midway between the  
two beds he sat down to bring the two of them up to date with what had happened to  
Enterprise while they were away.  
  
  
  
**IV**  
  
_Two Days Later_  
  
Malcolm walked along the corridor towards the captain's cabin. He was off  
duty, clad in a casual shirt and a pair of white trousers that fit  
themselves to his slim waist and hips, outlining the contours of his body  
with much greater definition than the dark blue jumpsuit he usually wore on  
duty.  
  
As he approached Jonathan's door he swallowed nervously and passed his tongue  
across dry lips. He had decided that he couldn't wait for another tomorrow.  
He couldn't take the chance that it might not come. He intended to tell Jon of  
his feelings. He knew he may be utterly rejected, but that didn't  
matter. It was an acceptable risk.  
  
He paused at the door for a moment, composing himself before he pressed the  
door chime.  
  
"Come in," Jon's voice called and Malcolm took a deep breath, smoothing his  
hair with one hand before he touched the control to open the door.  
  
"Malcolm!" The captain turned in his chair, and then got to his feet. He  
smiled broadly.  
  
Reed's breath hitched at the sight of that smile and he very  
nearly lost his nerve. Only his years of training served to keep him  
standing there. He met the captain's eyes for a moment, almost lost in their  
incredibly green depths before he managed to shake himself out of the spell  
that had come over him.  
  
Jonathan was saying something, Malcolm hadn't heard all of it, but he hoped  
it was an offer of a drink or something as he muttered, "Yes, please."  
  
"Take a seat." He must have got it right. Jonathan went to the small  
refrigerator and opened it, rummaging about until he came up with the bottle  
he sought. "I haven't got any bourbon," he shot Reed a mischievous grin.  
"Someone drank my last bottle."  
  
Malcolm chuckled and returned the grin, suddenly at ease. "It  
was a good bottle, too." He watched as the captain poured the liquor into  
two small glasses. Jonathan must be at least six feet tall, Malcolm estimated,  
yet he moved with a fluid ease that would better befit a smaller  
man. The lieutenant let his eyes travel downwards over Archer's physique,  
taking in the toned musculature visible even under the shirt and trousers he  
wore.  
  
He accepted the offered glass with a nod of thanks lowering his eyes as  
the captain moved to sit opposite him at the table.  
  
"What can I do for you, Malcolm?"  
  
Taking a quick sip of the liquor, Malcolm glanced into those mesmerizing  
eyes again and then looked away. "There is... something I need to tell  
you, sir." He was not sure he could go so far as to call the man by his  
first name, even off duty.  
  
Malcolm drew a breath, steeling his courage as he looked up into Jon's eyes.  
"When we were... on the shuttle, I realized something. I..."  
  
"Malcolm?" The captain leaned forward a little, studying his face and  
Malcolm held up a hand.  
  
"Please, sir, don't say anything I... I just needed to tell you I..." He gulped,  
raising the glass to his lips once more, letting the alcohol sear his throat  
and center him a little with its biting heat. "I..." He closed his eyes, took  
a deep breath and lifted his chin.  
  
"I realized that I couldn't bear to... to die without ever telling you how I  
feel."  
  
Jonathan shifted in his seat. A strange expression came over his features,  
and Malcolm felt his heart sink. He took another deep breath. "Cap... sir... Jonathan."  
He met the other man's eyes. "Jonathan, I find you incredibly attractive. I will  
understand if you don't return my feelings, I know that not everyone is... is..."  
He sighed with exasperation. becoming irritated with his fumbling. "God! I  
didn't expect this to be so difficult."  
  
"Malcolm." Jonathan spoke so softly that Malcolm was forced to look up, unsure if  
he had heard. The way the captain said his name. It was different,  
somehow. There was a cadence that hadn't been there before.  
  
He stared into green eyes that had suddenly grown warm and inviting, causing  
his breath to catch again. He started as a large, warm hand  
closed around his own on the table. A thumb caressed the back of his hand  
and Malcolm gulped.  
  
Jon applied gentle pressure to his hand, slowly drawing him out of his seat, and  
around the table until he was on his knees in front of his captain. He  
raised his eyes to the older man's face and sighed as powerful arms  
went around him, pulling him close before his lips were trapped by a warm,  
sensual mouth that possessed and explored him until he was panting under  
the tender assault.  
  
Malcolm lifted a hand to let his fingers graze across Jon's cheek, silently  
inviting a deeper exploration of his mouth as he parted his lips to the  
captain's tongue. He released a shuddering breath as the invitation was  
eagerly accepted, Jon's tongue sliding into his mouth, meeting and sparring  
with his own. Malcolm sucked on the invading tongue as a groan  
of longing came from somewhere deep in his throat.  
  
They broke apart several moments later, panting. Their eyes met  
and locked in a long, searching gaze before the captain gripped Malcolm's  
hands and pulled him to his feet, drawing him close in the same movement and  
taking possession of his mouth again.  
  
Fingers worked the buttons on Malcolm's shirt, slowly unfastening them. He  
gasped against the older man's mouth as nails ghosted across his skin, two  
strong hands gripping his sides, running downwards to clasp his buttocks and  
pull him hard against the burgeoning need.  
  
Malcolm tore his mouth free as he stripped the captain of his  
shirt so that he could explore the powerful chest. He  
felt an answering ache of need in his own groin as he ground his hips  
against Jonathan, letting him know that his desire was answered one hundred  
fold by the younger man's body. He leaned in close, trailing his tongue  
across Archer's skin, circling a nipple before drawing  
it into his mouth, suckling hungrily.  
  
Malcolm raked his fingernails downwards over the  
captain's belly until his fingers hooked into the waistband of the casual  
pants Jon wore. He pushed them down, careful not to catch the fabric on the  
swollen organ that strained for release from the confines of clothing.  
  
Slowly, Malcolm allowed his mouth to follow the path of his  
hands, until he knelt before Jonathan and looked up to  
find faintly bemused green eyes following his every move. He smiled,  
letting the warmth of it touch his eyes before he reached for Jonathan again.  
  
His cock was long and thick. The surface heavily veined with the throbbing  
need that Malcolm could feel pulsing against his hand as he held the member  
for a moment before he leaned in, lathing it gently with his tongue.  
  
"Malcolm?" Jon's voice was a desperate gasp as strong fingers curled into  
his hair.  
  
Malcolm looked up. "I want this," he said softly. "Let me."  
  
Jonathan's fingers relaxed a little and Malcolm leaned forward, touching the tip  
of his tongue to the tiny bead of clear fluid at the tip of Jon's cock. He  
pulled back, letting the fluid stretch between the tip of his tongue and the  
older man's member in a fine string, reveling in the shuddering groan of  
need that the sight elicited.  
  
Jonathan groaned again as Malcolm moved to take the tip of his swollen cock  
into his mouth. He thrust forward involuntarily as the younger man's tongue  
made maddening little circles around the head of his cock, flickering  
across the tip and pausing to delve into the tiny, sensitive opening,  
teasing him until he thought he would go insane.  
  
"Malcolm!" he growled, tightening his fingers into soft, dark hair and then  
relaxing as the younger man obediently stopped teasing and began to suck  
with long, steady strokes that drew the fire in his loins to a fever pitch  
again.  
  
Malcolm was obviously experienced and skilled at how to please a  
man. It didn't take long before Jonathan cried out and  
released. Afterwards, he sank down on his knees and pulled Malcolm  
into his arms, kissing his forehead tenderly as he  
wrapped him in his arms.  
  
"God... that was amazing," he whispered. "You're amazing."  
  
Malcolm nuzzled his chest, his warm breath caressing Jonathan's skin as he  
chuckled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he murmured.  
  
"We're going to get chilled here." Jonathan got to his feet, drawing  
Malcolm up by his hand. "Would you like to move this to the bed?"  
  
Malcolm's eyes told him the answer, even though the younger man seemed  
unable to speak for the moment. They moved to the bed, Malcolm shedding the  
last of his clothes along the way.  
  
Jonathan drew the armory officer into his arms and pulled the coverlet over  
them. He marveled at the way Malcolm's body seemed to mold so naturally to  
his own. It was as though they'd been doing this for years. He  
smiled, resting his chin on the top of Malcolm's head. "I'm glad you decided  
to tell me how you feel." He murmured. "I've been dancing around the issue  
for months."  
  
"Really?" Malcolm pulled back a little in Jonathan's arms and looked into the  
captain's eyes. "I never would have guessed." He smiled. "And I thought I  
had you all trumped when it came to hiding my feelings."  
  
Jonathan smiled into softly gleaming gray eyes as he allowed his hands to  
wander over Malcolm's body. "Until you came here tonight, I had no idea  
either," he told the lieutenant. The captain smiled as Malcolm gasped and  
squirmed when his fingers closed around his cock. "I think it's going to be  
a lot of fun teaching you to let your feelings show." He stroked and laughed as  
Malcolm groaned softly. "A lot of fun."  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this work, please leave kudos or a comment to let the author know.


End file.
